


The Care of a Brother

by mmorgan317



Category: Minority Report (TV 2015)
Genre: Dash Whump, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:23:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5311001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmorgan317/pseuds/mmorgan317
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dash is injured, Arthur fulfills his brotherly obligations to take care of him. Dash Whump. Little bit of Lara and Agatha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Care of a Brother

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this is finished or not. I feel like it could go both ways. What do you think?

No matter how many times she played it over and over in her head, Lara came to the same conclusion: once again, she owed her life to Dash. The trouble was that this time he had gotten hurt while doing it.

 

Lara wasn’t naive, she knew that getting injured was a side effect of the job. She’d signed up for being a cop knowing that. But Dash? He was a civilian. Sure he worked for the Metro PD, and yes both of them realized that there might be a time when there was a chance of him getting hurt, but Lara was still uneasy with the fact that it had happened and, what was worse, that it was because he had chosen to protect her.

 

Every time she saw him in pain, it gnawed at her stomach and burrowed to her heart. It was one of the reasons she wasn’t a fan of him using that stupid machine at Wally’s; the way his body tensed from the sheer amount of pain signals his brain was receiving always made her anxious. The only thing that stopped her from saying anything about its use was the fact that she could see her own feelings reflected in Wally’s face as well. Knowing that neither of them wanted to put Dash through that torture helped to assure her that it was necessary.

 

“Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in.”

 

Arthur’s voice coming from right behind her made Lara jump and roll her eyes at the same time. The last thing she wanted to deal with was Dash’s ass of a brother. The thought that he could actually give a shit about his brother crossed her mind but she quickly dismissed it. The chance that Arthur is here because he cares wasn’t likely. If anything, Arthur was probably here just to make sure that Dash could fulfill whatever favor had been promised to the "older" brother.

 

Standing up to glare at the annoyance, Lara crossed her arms over her chest and faced him. “What are you doing here?”

 

Arthur’s stare was level at worst, evidently not caring what she thought of him. A smile slowly crept onto his face and he smoothly slipped his hands into the pockets of his very expensive suit. His posture was relaxed but his blue eyes were as warm as ice. “Call me crazy but when I get a notice that my brother has been shot, I am allowedto show up and make sure that he’s alright.”

 

Again, Lara rolled her eyes, this time so that Arthur could see it. “Don’t worry,” she assured, “Dash will still be able to do whatever it is that you require of him for the name this time.” She paused and then added, “Providing that’s favor is something he can do one-handed.”

 

The “older” brother didn’t react which told Lara that he already knew how Dash was doing and so he had another reason for being here. His eyes briefly moved from hers, sliding to his right, and there they stayed. When Lara turned around, she noticed that Dash had been released and was standing not far from where they we're.

 

Dash’s left arm was in a brace which had been secured to him over a nondescript shirt which the hospital kept on hand in case a patient came in and needed a backup. He looked tired and in pain but he attempted to give her a smile when she looked over at him. He did no such thing for his brother.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked with what Lara believed was suspicion in his voice. He moved slowly, methodically, so that he was closer to them and Lara found herself biting back a suggestion that he should sit down before he fell down. Hopefully if she let the brothers get over their pleasantries, she’d be able to simply take Dash back to his apartment to let him rest.

 

Arthur’s face wrinkled into an expression of hurt that, for once, wasn’t faked. “What, I can’t come and make sure that you’re okay?” he asked as his eyes roamed over his brother’s body before coming to rest on the injured shoulder. There was a pause where neither brother said a word and then Arthur added, “You okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Dash said a little too quickly. The wince that immediately creased the corners of his eyes belied his declaration but he didn’t amend his statement. “They were able to get the bullet out and get me on my way with little trouble.”

 

Again, Lara thanked God for the upgrades to tech. What used to mean days spent within the hospital was now an outpatient procedure, although it had still taken quite a while in her opinion.

 

Arthur nodded, though he still looked a bit concerned for his “younger” brother. “You should call Agatha,” he suggested, falling back into his casual, uncaring façade. “She was worried about you.”

 

“So that’s why you came,” Dash countered sounding resolute to the idea. Was Arthur good enough of an actor to fool Lara or could Dash truly not see that his brother was genuinely worried?

 

Arthur didn’t react or reply. There was several heartbeats where no one said anything, actually, and just when Lara had finally talked herself into stepping in, wanting to get Dash sitting down sooner rather than later, Arthur finally spoke up. “Take care of yourself, Dash,” he bid, turning around to walk out the door. He stopped, pivoted to face them once again and added, “I’ll check on you a little later.”

 

Whether that was a threat or not, Lara didn’t know but the way he had said it had made it sound like one. She waited for the “older” brother to be gone entirely before she turned her attention fully onto Dash.

 

“How are you feeling really?” she asked. Maybe now that Arthur wasn’t there, he’d actually tell the truth?

 

“It’s better than using Wally’s machine,” Dash answered, providing her with a comparison that she didn’t actually want. His half-smile faded and pain clouded his boyish features. “But not by much,” he amended. “At least my head stops throbbing a little after the machine is turned off.”

 

Taking that to mean that his shoulder was still killing him, Lara winced a little in sympathy. Figuring that now was as good a time as any to leave, she started heading for the door, waiting a moment to make sure that Dash was following her before striding off. “Didn’t they give you anything for the pain?” she asked almost conversationally as she headed out to the Rail Tram.

 

“They numbed the wound for the surgery,” he assured her as he caught up and matched her stride, “but that has since begun to wear off.”

 

“And they didn’t give you anything else?” she asked, confused. Usually it was the practice to ease the patient’s pain which meant a shot or something of reliever. She waited for the rail to make a complete stop before she climbed into the car, scanned her parking ticket, and then waited for the train to deliver both her and Dash to her car.

 

Letting him pick the spot in which they sat, Lara waited until Dash was seated before she sat next to him. She was glad that he chose a seat where she would be sitting on his right rather than his left. On the off-chance that the ride wasn’t smooth, she didn’t want to accidentally bump into his injured arm, not that it made much of a difference. The seats within the train were compact enough to be able to fit as many people as possible. Which meant that if there was a bump in the line and the train jolted, Dash would most likely jar his wounded shoulder into the window of the train. 

 

“They offered,” he said as he scanned the surroundings for a listening ear. When he, apparently, didn’t find one, he lowered his voice and added, “I didn’t think it was wise in case we got a case.”

 

“And how is having a vision, which is pretty much like having a seizure for your brain, good for you given your arm?” she countered. She didn’t like the idea that he was still in pain, and willing to go through a lot more, just because he may “see” a murder.

 

“It’s not,” he answered, “but it’ll be easier for Wally to get an image if my brain isn’t befuddled by medication.”

 

The train stopped in the area that she had parked and she and Dash got out. They waited for the train to pull away before they stepped off the platform and made their way over to her car. Dash groaned as he got in and Lara winced again as his body seemed to become rigid with pain. Normally the height of her car, or the lack thereof as it were, wasn’t an issue; it was easy enough for both of them to bend over a little to get inside. But for Dash, she knew it had to be harder since he was not only taller but currently had a hole in his body. She made a note to see if she could borrow Akeela’s car for a little while until he was healed.

 

“Well then you should have taken the medication because you aren’t going near Wally’s for at least a week.” The words, ‘not if I have anything to say about it’, hung in the air but she didn’t say them since she knew that he would be able to infer them on his own.

 

Letting the car take over whilst they were on the freelane, Lara pivoted a little so that she was facing her partner. Dash sat in the passenger seat with his eyes closed, his head against the headrest, and his right arm encircling his left. His posture was a mixture of exhaustion and pain, as though his body didn’t know which one it wanted to exhibit most. Since neither option left her thinking that he wanted to talk, she turned back so that she was facing the steering column and remained quiet.

 

oOo

 

As Dash made his slow, calculated way into his apartment, he kept turning his brother’s expressions over in his mind, perusing them for signs of sincerity rather than mockery. To his chagrin, he could actually see glimpses of it and a small wave of guilt washed over him as he recalled how cold he had been. He’d have to apologize when he next saw Arthur.

 

Vega followed him inside, remaining a quiet but supportive presence. He understood that she had a little bit of guilt of her own that she was dealing with but he also knew that it was unnecessary as she had nothing to feel guilty for.

 

They had been facing down their latest suspect, a middle-aged woman with a sadistic spark in her eyes and a penchant for stalking. Sooner or later, the illegal act escalated to murder and this time Dash had been alerted to the fact. What they hadn’t expected was that the “victim” in this would be Blake, Vega’s (and Dash’s, he supposed) boss. It had been awkward for them all to be protecting the Lieutenant, with or without his knowledge, and it had been even worse when the woman had showed up at the station. Thankfully, she had run before anything violent could happen so no one saw Dash “see” Vega get shot and then take the bullet for her instead. That belonged to Vega and himself alone.

 

“So,” Vega said, pulling Dash out of his thoughts, “this is what your place looks like. I gotta admit, it’s not how I pictured it.”

 

Dash looked around at his place, trying to see it through Vega’s eyes rather than his own. It did look a little bare but he liked it that way. “I’m a minimalist,” he said by way of an explanation. “Thank you for getting me home.”

 

She smiled, though she must have known that he was essentially telling her to leave. “You’re welcome. Do you need anything before I go?”

 

“No. I’m good.” He appreciated her offer but right now, he just wanted to be on his own. His shoulder was hurting rather badly, and his head had been aching since he’d hit it on the ground when the bullet had impacted with him, and he truly wasn’t up to trying to be pleasant company. “Thank you, Vega.”

 

Vega nodded knowingly and then she offered him another smile. “Goodnight Dash.” She paused for a moment, looking as though she wanted to give him a hug or thank him or something, and then after giving a slight shake of her head, and with a glimmer of doubt in her eyes, she left.

 

Dash let loose a sigh of relief the moment she was gone. The apartment was quiet, hollow almost, but it soothed him in a way nothing else ever could.

 

The serenity was shattered via the beeping of Agatha’s phone box. Dash sighed again, this time in a hope for patience, and then went to activate the device. Agnes’ figure inflated and soon her smiling-yet-worried face met his.

 

“How are you, Dash?” she asked in such a motherly fashion that Dash couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed.

 

“I am well, Agatha, and yourself?”

 

She glared at him a little this time. “Don’t lie, Dash,” she reprimanded, “you aren’t good at it. Even through the link I can tell that you are in pain. How bad is the wound?”

 

Not as bad as it feels, Dash thought but didn’t say. “Relatively minor,” he answered instead. “The bullet was lodged within my scapula but the medics were able to get it out and seal the bone until the fracture could be healed.”

 

In spite of his off-handed way of explaining it, which he had hoped would help to assure her that he was fine, Agatha was frowning. “And how is the detective?” she asked with ever so slight a hint of anger in her voice, as though she was blaming Vega for his injury.

 

“Detective Vega is fine,” he said. “Instead of killing her, the bullet merely injured me.”

 

Agatha’s frown deepened and in retrospect, Dash admitted that he could have phrased that a little better since she definitely valued Dash more than she did Vega. When would she learn to trust Vega as he did?

 

Silence soon fell between them. It blanketed them in the stillness of awkwardness. Dash didn’t know what to say and, clearly, neither did Agatha. While Dash was simply too tired and sore to try and keep up a conversation, he suspected that Agatha was keeping her thoughts to herself out of respect to him. Normally she wasn’t one to hold her tongue but tonight she was and he was grateful for that.

 

“You should get some rest,” she instructed, her voice a little colder than it had been. “Oh, and try to be a little kinder to your brother. He cares about you too.”

 

“I know,” he said as he slowly sat down into a chair. He began to lean back but the moment the back of the chair brushed against his shoulder, Dash winced and sat forward a bit. “I’ll call him tomorrow and apologize.”

 

“There’s no need,” Agatha assured him with more warmth this time. “He understands better than you think. But do talk to him soon. He could probably do something about the pain.”

 

“I don’t like medicines, Agatha, you know that,” Dash reminded her a bit more sharply than he meant. Of all the people, she and Arthur should understand why he didn’t want medicinal drugs messing with his mind, her more so than Arthur, actually.

 

“I know, Dash, and I get it. But being in constant pain isn’t going to help you heal any faster and if you want to continue your..work, then you’re going to need to rest and take some medication.”

 

He nodded to show that he heard but he didn’t respond. On this subject he knew that he would differ from everyone’s opinion and he would stick by his decision. She sighed and then bid, “Goodnight Dash,” reminding him of the way Vega had given in.

 

The image deflated and folded itself into its box, leaving Dash to sit and stare into the space where her face had just been. This was going to be a long week.

 

oOo

 

The next morning found Arthur at Dash’s door. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t actually check on him, choosing instead to wait for Dash to come to him, but his brotherly concern seemed to have taken over and so, here he was. Although he certainly wouldn’t admit it, the way in which Dash had treated him when he’d showed up at the hospital had stung. Sure, Arthur knew that part of it was because Dash was in pain and simply wanted to be left alone - it was a family trait - but the other part suspected that even if Dash had been medicated like he should have been, he still wouldn’t have acted any differently.

 

With a sigh, Arthur knocked on the door. He didn’t know in what kind of mood his brother would be this morning but he didn’t believe it would be any friendlier than the night before. So, he resolved himself against the lack of geniality and warmth and patiently waited for the door to open.

 

It took far longer than Arthur would have suspected, given how small his brother’s apartment was, but eventually Dash did do it. The kid looked tired and the usual signs of pain were present, but, still, he smiled and then stepped aside to allow his brother entry.

 

Arthur didn’t say anything until after Dash had closed the door and gingerly sat down at his small table. The way he was guarding his shoulder - which was surprisingly still strapped - and the hard set of Dash’s eyes told Arthur that, not only had Dash not taken any medicine, he didn’t plan on being persuaded to any time soon. Changing strategy, Arthur slipped his hands into his coat pockets and began to quietly peel the packet one of the med patches open and expose the adhesive with an exposed dose of high-strength medicine underbelly within. He palmed it, careful not to stick the thing to his own skin and then waited for the right time. Dash would hate him for this but better to have his brother not in pain and angry at him then to have the opposite.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, remaining standing but taking a position on the other side of his brother. He made sure to look relaxed, casual, and not in a hurry, but he felt none of those. Arthur was stressed. He was tired and he was anxious. All of which we're for no good reason other than that his brother had been shot yesterday while saving his partner’s life in the process. He didn’t necessarily take Agatha’s view on the Detective, but he wasn’t sure if he liked her or not either. Until he decided, he was of the opinion that having her shot rather than his brother was just fine with him. “Agatha tells me that you don’t want to take any meds. Does this have to do with your..day job?”

 

Dash’s eyes flashed for a moment, the pain being brushed aside by sudden anger, but it was gone as soon as it had come. Either the kid was simply too tired or too pained to put up much of a fight.

 

“Getting the images is hard enough when I’m not on medicine,” Dash said. A normal person wouldn’t have understood him entirely, he’d left some details out when he’d spoken, but Arthur had no trouble comprehending him fully.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes to show what he’d thought of that sentiment. “Do you honestly think that you’ll bee running off to help another victim until after your shoulder has healed?” He thought about it and then added, “Do you think Vega would allow you to?”

 

The answer to both questions was obviously ‘no’ but Dash was as stubborn as he was naive and his back straightened as he geared up for an argument. The moment he did, however, his face wrinkled into a pained grimace and he hunched over again, his head bending so that, presumably, Arthur couldn’t see how much he hurt. It didn’t work and Arthur went over to his brother, placing his hand on Dash’s neck and leaving it there until his brother looked up at him.

 

At first Dash seemed to wait for Arthur to say something, taking the action to mean that Arthur wanted his attention. But eventually his eyes widened and a look of betrayal crossed his face. “What did you do?” he asked. His eyes lost their sharp focus and wandered about the room before returning back to Arthur. His hand reached up to his neck where he could feel the med patch at the center. He tried to peel it off but Arthur grabbed his hand to stop him, holding on when Dash tried to pull away.

 

“Leave it,” he said, making sure to keep his tone and his movements as normal as he could. “You need some proper rest and you aren’t going to get it while you’re refusing pain medication.” He gently hauled his brother off the chair and, with some resistance from Dash, made their way over to the bed where Arthur just as gently deposited him. “Now, I’m going to tuck you in and you’re going to sleep for a good eight hours. If,” he added emphasis to the word just to make sure that he was understood, “and only if, you are looking and feeling better after that will I allow you to get up and move around.”

 

“I’m fine, Arthur,” Dash insisted, though the bite that was supposed to be in the words was dulled thanks to the medication. “I don’t need your brand of caring.”

 

“You obviously don’t want it,” Arthur agreed and amended in one, “but you are not fine and should you continue on the self-sacrificing path that you were setting yourself on, you would probably end up doing more harm to yourself than good, and that, my brother, I cannot allow.”

 

He paused, waiting for a comeback that never came. He half expected Dash to make some snide comment about being able to do whatever it was that Arthur required of him for the name that had been given but, instead, he surprised Arthur and remained silent. He seemed to be patiently waiting for Arthur to finish his lecture while fighting sleep.

 

Giving a sigh, Arthur pulled Dash’s legs onto the bed and then proceeded to attempt to position him with pillows so that there wasn’t as much pressure on the injured shoulder. Dash continued to remain mute and simply watched him. But there was a question in his eyes that Arthur could read as if it had been spoken aloud. Once he was finished he sat down the on the edge of the bed and after folding his right leg, he rested his elbow on it, leaning forward while supporting himself.

 

“Look,” he said with yet another sigh. “You’re my brother, Dash. It’s natural for me to not be happy when you’re hurt and hurting. It’s also natural for me to want to do something about it, especially when said brother is being an idiot.” That, at least, got a smile out of Dash, even if it was a bit dopey. “If it makes you feel any better, you can consider this my favor.” Suspicion now entered Dash’s blue eyes and Arthur rolled his own. “Continue to use the med patches, take care of yourself, and don’t go on any cases with Vega until you’re healed - that’s my price for the name that got you into this mess.”

 

The suspicion stayed in Dash’s eyes for a minute longer before the kid visibly relaxed. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t agree or disagree with the terms. Merely smiled. But for Arthur, it was as good as a binding contract.

 

“Get some sleep,” he said, standing up.

 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Dash asked. He sounded so much like the frightened little kid that he was never given the chance to be that it made Arthur stop and turn around.

 

“Do you want me to be?” he asked, careful to keep anything that he might be thinking or feeling from his face.

 

Dash shrugged, then grimaced when he’d done it with his injured shoulder. Arthur rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. “I’m sure you have other things to do today,” was Dash’s non-reply. Clearly the kid wanted him to be but wasn’t about to ask if it inconvenienced him.

 

“I do,” Arthur admitted. He knew the moment that Dash’s heart sank and Arthur once again rolled his eyes and sat back down on the bed. “But it’s nothing that can’t be rescheduled for tomorrow.” Hope rekindled in Dash’s face and Arthur shook his head. “Did you seriously think I would leave you alone and injured?” He ruffled his brother’s hair - or would have had Dash had any hair to ruffle - and then smiled. “Go to sleep Dash. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

From then it didn’t take long for the wounded man to give in to the pull of the medication. With the promise that his brother would be there when he awoke, Dash closed his eyes and let the nothingness wash over him.


End file.
